


Oneshot Request: Russia and Prussia in Hogwarts

by Espisayer



Series: Tumblr Requests and Prompts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crossover, Fluff, Humor, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 02:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Espisayer/pseuds/Espisayer
Summary: A oneshot request from tumblr: Russia and Prussia are cute, slightly awkward teenagers trying to figure each other out.Alternate human names for Russia and Prussia are used. Strong language.





	Oneshot Request: Russia and Prussia in Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> I tend to write Russia and Prussia differently than you typically see in the fandom. If you want more information, I made a detailed post about it on tumblr here: https://espisayer-hetalia.tumblr.com/post/181402345153/my-characterizations-russia-prussia

School was a challenge. Not the academics—reading, paying attention in class, tests… that was the easy part. At least for Aleksandr. The hard part was all the other students.

It was bad enough that he was singled out for being 180 cm tall by the time he was 14, and originally being from Russia, but the fact that his father was infamously known as an international criminal, part-time Death Eater, and current prisoner of Azkaban sealed his fate before he even came to Hogwarts.

If he was being honest, though, he didn’t always make things better for himself. In his efforts to avoid being terrorized, Aleksandr didn’t do much to refute rumors the other students spread around—no, he actually made it worse by going out of his way to scare other students for fun.

It was a good thing he ended up in Slytherin. That wasn’t generally the wish of most magical hopefuls, but at least there, even though there was something of an elitist structure underneath, he was among other outcasts. Those who spent more than 5 minutes talking to him could at least offer some understanding.

He wasn’t the only black sheep, though, by far. And if anyone else stood out in the house as much as him, it was Gilbert Schwarzfurst: originally from Germany, he was aggressive, loudmouthed, and outgoing, and… he acted like he was in the wrong house. His younger brother was in Ravenclaw, and all his friends were in Gryffindor. He seemed to be well-liked outside of Slytherin. In his own house… not so much.

Aleksandr didn’t mind him at all, actually… for no specific reason. Though he did think Gilbert seemed a little dense sometimes. For example, on days like today when he would show up late for the worst class he could show up late to—Potions.

He tried to sneak in 10 minutes late as if Snape  _didn’t_ have eyes in the back of his head—and had a book tossed at him from across the room. He ducked in time, though, and proceeded to dig himself into a deeper hole by quipping, “Hah, missed me!”

“ _Sit down_ ,” Snape spat with a hiss, snapping a finger and directing him toward the back of the room. Directly next to Aleksandr. “And don’t even think about making another sound.”

Gilbert obliged and didn’t open his mouth again, though he couldn’t seem to help himself as he threw in a grin and salute to make up for it—and got another book thrown at him.

While Snape continued the lesson, Aleksandr pretended not to be a deer in the headlights. He sat in the corner of the room for a reason—surely that wasn’t the only available seat? Was he supposed to watch Gilbert or something? He was suddenly hit with a wave of nervousness and social anxiety, trying to look like he was reading so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with Gilbert when he sat down.

He didn’t know what to do when Gilbert nudged his elbow. Some sort of panic set in, and he dealt with it by doing nothing. A bad habit that didn’t work out for him, since he started whispering next. “Hey. Aleksandr?”

He was surprised Gilbert knew his name, since even in four years they hadn’t spoken much—and he didn’t come off as the attentive type. That was beside the point, though… Panic. He was still panicking and it was draining what was left of his social skills. He only ended up shushing Gilbert, still without looking at him.

After that, Gilbert finally went silent. Aleksandr could sense a shift in his mood now, oddly enough—tense and restless. He sighed and fidgeted a lot. It seemed out of character, as far as he could tell… but then again, people tended to be uncomfortable around him.

Aleksandr wished he had the ability to make a different impression, but… he was cursed to be like this. He just had to suffer through the rest of class…

Or so he thought. Gilbert was already halfway out of the room when Snape’s monotone, no-nonsense voice stopped both of them in their tracks.

“Schwarzfurst and Kolosov.” He issued no verbal command, but his tone and finger snapping was enough to tell them to park it in front of his desk. He looked at Gilbert first. “Do you care to explain to me how you manage to fool all your other professors into thinking you’re a good student, while you fail so miserably in my class?”

“Eh,” Gilbert shrugged, holding back a defiant grin, “it’s not just your class. I suck balls at divination and herbology, too.”

His response was met with an unappreciative, cold, dead stare, and Snape was eerily silent for several moments. Then he shifted his gaze to Aleksandr and said, “I want you to tutor him.”

Aleksandr had been afraid that was coming—he didn’t think before grimacing and asking, “Why me?”

While Gilbert scowled and crossed his arms, clicking his tongue, Snape responded, “Because you’re the only one with enough patience to handle him, and you tutored nearly half of the damn house last year.”

“Er…” That was a mistake, apparently… “But I…”

“Hey, hey,” Gilbert snapped, “I don’t need a fu—a damn tutor. I’m fine.”

“You’re  _failing_ ,” Snape snapped back. “And if you keep arguing with me I’ll make sure you’re expelled before that happens.” He gave Aleksandr a look too, and when he was satisfied that neither of them were about to open their mouths again, he pointed them out of his classroom.

In the hall, tons of other students walking past them, Gilbert let out a groan and hung his head dramatically. “Fuck, I hate him!” Then he spun around on Aleksandr before he could even think of anything to say. “And  _you_ —you think I’m an idiot, right? Well, I’m not!”

Aleksandr stalled. “Erm… I… didn’t…”

“But since Beakface has his panties in a bunch, I guess I’ll meet you in the dorms after dinner.”

Wait, what? Aleksandr was so sure he was just going to say “fuck it” and storm off. He blinked, “I… thought you didn’t want to…”

Gilbert crossed his arms and shrugged. “Well, he’s gonna find out if I don’t, right?”

“Uh… yes… but…”

“But nothin’. Or are you that put off by me?”

“Uh—N-No… I…”

He came back quickly again and said, “Fine, then see you at 7:00.”

With that, he walked off. Aleksandr’s words failed him in the meantime and he gave up on trying to say anything in response. It was going to be a difficult evening if Gilbert kept firing off like that without giving him any time to think…

Aleksandr wondered, as he watched Gilbert push past the crowds of students, if he was just irritated or if  _he_  was put off by the tutor he got stuck with. Probably both.

He spent the rest of his classes over-analyzing himself but also trying to think of a way he might be able to fix this… tension. It wasn’t like he completely incapable of socializing, it was just… terrifying when he had to go out of his way.

And for some reason, Gilbert made his throat close up.

This problem became apparent later when they sat in silence, across a table from each other. Aleksandr sat still, stewing and staring at a page in the textbook but not forming any coherent thoughts, while Gilbert folded his arms on the table and incessantly tapped a pencil.

The pure silence lasted at least 10 minutes. It was excruciating and felt more like a half an hour. Then Gilbert suddenly tossed his pencil across the room and blurted out, “Alright, what’s your problem with me?!”

Aleksandr flinched and accidentally knocked a stack of books off the table. He blinked and stammered at Gilbert. “I… uh… wh-what…?”

“Why do you act so weird around me? I never did shit to you,” Gilbert said, looking tense, and still acting fidgety. It was strange. “I mean—I picked on you a little bit first year, but I didn’t mean anything by it. Plus, you asked me to stop, so I stopped. So what? You think I’m annoying? Stupid? ‘Cause I could ace Potions if I wanted to, I just don’t give a shit—”

He stopped when Aleksandr abruptly reached across the table to stop him from tapping a different pencil—which was half-broken now. “Please… just… slow down…” Aleksandr pleaded, giving him an exhausted look. “I can’t keep up with you…”

“Uh…” Of all things, Gilbert looked a little embarrassed, pausing. “Y-Yeah…” He let the pencil go and sunk in his chair a little more. Then he muttered something under his breath that Aleksandr didn’t catch.

He sat back down in his own chair, bewildered—the last thing he expected was to be the less awkward one. He had to take a moment to consider everything Gilbert had just rambled out, but Gilbert seemed to be… sulking, so Aleksandr spoke first. “I… don’t think you’re stupid…” he told him. “Or annoying…”

Gilbert gauged him for a moment, before asking, “So then, why do you avoid me so much? And you wouldn’t even look at me today. So… what am I supposed to think?”

“Erm…” Honestly, he never thought Gilbert would notice him doing anything of the sort. Or care, for that matter. So why did he? “I… I’m sorry…” Aleksandr said, struggling again to find the words. “It’s not that I… I just… don’t know how to talk to you…” Then he quickly corrected himself, though it was too late to stop the blushing. “Er— _people._ ”

Gilbert had already begun to respond, though, looking intrigued somehow. “Me? Why?”

Now he was fidgeting. “N-No, I meant… in general…”

“I thought Snape said you tutored half the house by now?”

“I—he was exaggerating.” He didn’t like being put on the spot—was there any way to redirect his attention? “But… speaking of which… erm…”

“Do I make you nervous?”

He was so awkward a moment ago—what happened to that? Giving him a withered look, Aleksandr mumbled, “Y… _Yes_ ,” as if that wasn’t obvious.

Gilbert was leaning forward on the table now, looking more natural as his grin returned—though it didn’t spell anything good for Aleksandr. “Why’s that?”

He didn’t know how to answer that question and he didn’t want to think about it very hard. “The—The same reason other people make me nervous.”

“Other people like who?”

“Like…” He stalled. “Alfred Jones.”

Gilbert snorted. “Uh-huh. I heard once that you set his broom on fire while he was at Quiddich practice.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Hah!” he laughed. “That comeback was too quick. I don’t believe you.”

Aleksandr was almost squirming now. That silence didn’t sound as bad anymore, even if he preferred to see Gilbert grinning over the sulking… though that was thinking about it too hard, wasn’t it? “I-I don’t know what you want me to say, then.”

“Uh, I don’t know… I mean… You could say you have a crush on me.”

 _What?_ A crush? “Er—I—I don’t… uhm…” No. His first instinct was to say no. There was no way. They barely ever talked to each other. Though… that was his fault, wasn’t it? Wait. Maybe he did. “Oh, God.” Did he say that out loud?

He turned scarlet and sort of just… froze there while his mind raced in circles. It wouldn’t stop. The silence prompted Gilbert to stand up and wave in his face. “Hey… Are you okay?”

A bit jarred, Aleksandr blinked rapidly and sputtered, “I—N-N-No, I… No.”

“No… you don’t, or no, you’re not okay?” Gilbert’s smile turned a little awkward, but he offered (hoping it was the latter), “Uhm, if it makes you feel any better, that’s why I was acting like a loser two minutes ago.”

“Uhm… I…” Aleksandr didn’t know how to process that or think straight. He absently felt his face to check if it had burned off yet.

Gilbert let out a sigh and sat down in the chair next to him. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “Okay, look… Do you wanna go on a date?”

Aleksandr stared at Gilbert for a full ten seconds before responding. And it wasn’t the most sophisticated response. “Date?”

“Uh, yeah,” he almost snorted, trying not to laugh. “You… know what that is, don’t you?”

“I… uh… I’m not… sure I do…”

“Well… you could just say okay and find out.”

He could’ve also said no and saved himself what would undoubtedly be humiliation, but his brain was so fried from shock that he found himself muttering, “O-Okay…”

Gilbert blinked at him. “What, really?” After a pause, Gilbert smiled and quickly backtracked, “No, don’t change your mind—actually, let’s go now.”

“Wh—Wait— _now?!_ ” What the hell was going on? Gilbert grabbed his arm and stood him out of the chair. Aleksandr was stammering and stalling like too much of a moron to get ahold of himself.

“Sure, why not!”

“But—where—?”

“I don’t know, anywhere, who cares?”

He scrambled to come up with something when they were halfway out the door, “But—But—wh-what about your Potions homework?!”

“Fuck it!”

“Gilbert!”


End file.
